spoonfulofmilo

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 19's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The sleek black car came to a graceful stop, almost too quiet for its size. It wasn’t flashy, no revving engine or tinted drama, but it exuded refinement, like whoever was inside didn’t need to announce their presence. They just were.

When the door opened, the man who stepped out did so with the kind of ease that suggested years of expectation, posture perfected by both discipline and habit. He stood tall, broad-shouldered, immaculately groomed.

His features were sharp and symmetrical, with high cheekbones and a strong, angular jawline that looked sculpted by centuries of aristocracy. His skin was smooth and glowing in the golden hour light, the faintest blush of color softening the otherwise precise structure of his face. His eyes, crystal-clear blue, cut through the distance like they were already seeking something, or someone. There was a glimmer in them: not arrogance, but knowing. Like he understood the effect he had and chose not to wield it recklessly.

His hair was styled to near-perfection, a slightly tousled crown of dark blond waves that looked like they belonged in a high-gloss editorial, or on a throne. His smile, when it came, was surprisingly warm. Wide and genuine, dimples creasing ever so slightly at the corners. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was real.

He wore a dark green short-sleeve shirt with a vibrant floral pattern, the reds and soft greens standing out against his fair skin. It was playful, modern. But it was tucked neatly into pressed beige trousers, paired with a brown leather belt and matching shoes. Effortlessly polished. Understated wealth at its finest.

He approached Y/N, standing with hands loosely clasped in front of him.

“George,” he said, extending a hand with an easy, practiced charm. “From England.”

Y/N raised a brow. “Not gonna tell me what you do, huh?”

George grinned. “It’s classified.”

Y/N chuckled. “So classified that you constantly need bodyguards, huh? I thought I was well known, but mine are at the perimeter. Yours are like two metres away. That’s gonna be awkward if I want to kiss you and they think I’m a threat. Or worse, just stand there awkwardly and watch.”

George tilted his head. “Well… should I be intrigued or concerned?”

“That’s my line,” Y/N teased. “A man of mystery. Should I be flattered or worried?”

George smirked, that glint returning to his eyes. “Depends on how dangerous you are.”

They shared a look, charged, playful, just a bit too long to be casual.

Y/N broke the moment. “Alright then, Mr. Classified. What actually brings you here? To the mansion?”

George paused, the charm softening into something more honest.

“I don’t often get to make choices for myself,” he said. “Everything in my life is planned, watched, managed. But this, this I chose. I wanted to meet someone in a way that wasn’t arranged or expected. Someone who sees me, not what I was born into.”

Y/N blinked, not expecting that kind of openness so soon. “And what would you do for a first date? If it were just us, no cameras, no titles?”

George’s answer came easily. “Horseback riding. Quiet, a little old-fashioned, but there’s something freeing about it. Out in nature, no phones. Just you, me, and the rhythm of it.”

Y/N smiled slowly. “That actually sounds kind of perfect.”

“And you?” Y/N asked, tilting his head. “If you could travel anywhere in the world?”

George’s eyes lit up. “Paris, hands down. England’s got its royal charm, sure, but Paris? There’s something about how history and romance blend there. It doesn’t try too hard, it just is. The Louvre, late-night walks, the food... the feeling.”

Y/N teased, “Are you secretly a royal historian or something? That was a whole dissertation.”

George laughed, rich and unguarded. “Let’s just say… I appreciate a bit of grandeur.”

Then, as if remembering something, he turned toward the car and opened the rear door.

“I do have something for you,” he said.

Y/N’s brows lifted. “Oh? A classified gift?”

George returned holding a small black velvet box. He opened it carefully to reveal… a crown. Not heavy or overdone, this wasn’t costume jewelry. It was elegant, minimalist. A modern take on a classic design. Polished silver, subtly adorned with tiny sapphires. A symbol, not a spectacle.

Y/N stared, genuinely speechless. “Is that…?”

“It’s not official,” George said gently, smile shy now. “But I wanted you to have it. Because tonight, you're the one holding court.”

Y/N laughed, shaking their head in disbelief. “You’re smooth, I’ll give you that.”

George offered a faint smirk. “I do try.”

The two stood there for a beat longer, the energy between them a little quieter now, a little more serious. Then George took a small step back.

“I’m not here just to win,” he said. “I’m here to find someone who gets it. Who doesn’t care about the guards or the gossip. Just… someone who sees me.”

Y/N watched him go, still holding the crown.

—-

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“George. George brought me a crown. Like, an actual, wearable crown. I don’t know whether to laugh, blush, or propose right now. But seriously… it wasn’t just about the gift. It was about the thought behind it. The fact that he made me feel like the main character from the moment he stepped out of that car. He’s mysterious, but not in a guarded way, more like… someone who’s had to live behind glass walls for too long. I saw someone tonight who wants to be chosen for who he is, not what he was born into. And I don’t know... it kind of made me want to be the person who sees through all that. I expected drama. Roses. Maybe a cheesy line or two. I wasn’t expecting someone to walk in and gently turn my entire perspective upside down with a damn crown and a calm smile.”

(cut to George’s interview)

“Okay… so I gave them a crown. I know how that sounds. Dramatic, maybe even a little much. But it wasn’t about me. It was about giving them something that said: You deserve to be chosen. You deserve to be seen. I’ve spent so much of my life surrounded by tradition, by expectation. But none of it has ever really been mine. Tonight… for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was stepping into something real. Not a duty. Not an arrangement. Just… a connection. And Y/N? He didn’t treat me like a headline. He treated me like a person. That means everything.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 18's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The next car that pulled up didn’t roar or rev, it glided. A sleek, matte black electric supercar that mirrored the man who stepped out of it: elegant, quietly powerful, and impossible not to notice.

He moved with the kind of effortless confidence that could only come from years of navigating the world in the spotlight. His posture was impeccable, but never stiff, more like the kind of grace that came from discipline and years of self-awareness. His head held high, movements unhurried, deliberate, yet smooth.

He wore an all-black ensemble, a fitted, high-collared shirt tucked into tailored trousers, paired with minimalist black boots. No logos, no flash. Just clean lines and premium texture. On someone else, it might have looked severe. On him, it looked... refined. Unshakable.

As he approached, he took off his sunglasses, and that’s when Y/N saw them: his eyes. Deep brown, alert, magnetic. There was something both intense and kind behind them, like he was always watching, always thinking, deciding what pieces of himself to share.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and even, with that unmistakable British cadence. “I’m Lewis.”

Y/N’s smile flickered, equal parts intrigued and caught off guard by the man’s composed presence. “Nice to meet you, Lewis.”

“Likewise,” he said, offering a faint but warm smile, the kind that didn’t need to be wide to be felt. It was a smile that made promises: of intelligence, of depth, of something real underneath the surface.

Y/N gave him a curious look. “Tell me about yourself.”

“I’m 38, from the UK,” he said, hands loosely in his pockets, “and I’m a model.”

He let the title sit in the air, though something about the way he said it made Y/N feel like there was more, a lot more, behind the label.

“Do you like to travel?” Y/N asked.

Lewis nodded thoughtfully. “I do. I’ve done a lot of it because of work. But even now, it still surprises me, how much of the world there is to see. India’s on my list. So is Nepal, I’d love to see Everest up close. And Africa... not just the cities, but the deep, open landscapes. The quiet out there. I think I’d like that.”

Y/N looked at him for a beat, then said softly, “There’s a lot of stuff I wanna do too. I’m always worried I’m not gonna have enough time.”

Lewis tilted his head, gaze steady. “Then let’s not waste any. Can I have the opportunity to help you cross something off your list?”

The question came so calmly, so sincerely, that Y/N was momentarily speechless.

Regrouping, he chuckled. “You always this smooth?”

Lewis offered the faintest smirk. “Only when it counts.”

Y/N leaned in slightly. “Okay, here’s a big one. Do you want to have kids in the future?”

Lewis didn’t blink. “I love my niece and nephew. They keep me grounded. I haven’t mapped it out, exactly, not in terms of timelines, but if having a family is something you’re passionate about, I’d like to talk about it. I’m open. I’m just... thoughtful with big commitments. I don’t rush them.”

It wasn’t rehearsed. It wasn’t dodging. It was honest. That kind of thoughtful pause before giving a real answer? That said a lot more than a yes or no ever could.

“So, what actually brings you here?” Y/N asked. “I mean… here, to the mansion?”

Lewis took a quiet breath. “I’ve spent a long time focusing on my work. Achieving, building. But real connection? That’s rarer. And harder to find in my world. So, I’m here because I’m open to this. To you. To something unexpected that might actually matter.”

The air between them shifted. It was subtle, but Y/N felt it, a deeper thread starting to pull taut.

“So…” he added, smiling again, “what would your ideal first date with me look like?”

Lewis’s smile returned, warmer now. “I heard you love marine life. So I’d like to take you to an aquarium, one of the big ones, like the oceanographic museum in Monaco or that underwater tunnel in Japan. Or maybe a museum dedicated to water, they exist, you know.”

He paused, then added, “And maybe dinner after. Somewhere quiet. Nothing loud. Just us.”

Y/N was about to speak again, when Lewis reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a small, black envelope. He held it out.

“What’s this?” Y/N asked, surprised.

“A gift,” he said plainly. “Two tickets to the Met Gala. I had them set aside. Wasn’t sure I’d use them this year. But... if you wanted to come with me, or even bring someone else, if things don’t go my way, I’d still like you to have them.”

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Wait, seriously? These are, this is insane.”

Lewis shrugged, almost sheepishly. “I know it’s extravagant. But I figured… if I’m going to show up for something real, I might as well show up fully.”

There was a beat of silence. Not awkward, just heavy with meaning.

“And finally,” Y/N said softly, “if you could travel anywhere in the world right now…?”

Lewis didn’t hesitate. “Tokyo. Hands down. It’s got this energy that’s unlike anywhere else, futuristic, but still rooted in tradition. The fashion, the pace, the culture... I think it’d be amazing to experience that with someone who really sees it, not just scrolls through it.”

Y/N smiled, tucking the envelope under their arm. “You’re... something else.”

Lewis gave a soft laugh. “So are you.”

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“Okay... Met Gala tickets? Like, what?? But here’s the thing, Lewis isn’t flashy. He’s smooth, yeah, but it’s not about impressing people. It’s… deliberate. Thoughtful. Everything he said felt like it came from him, not some idea of who he’s supposed to be. I didn’t expect to feel so seen in that moment. It wasn’t about the tickets. It was that he listened. He really listened. And that… yeah. That hit different.”

(cut to Lewis’ interview)

“I didn’t come here to play a part. I came here as myself. I know what I’ve achieved in life, but that’s not what I lead with. Nothing matters if there’s no real connection. And with Y/N… There’s a presence there. Grounded. Curious. Real. The kind of person you lean toward without realizing. I don’t give out Met Gala tickets casually. That was intentional. I wanted them to know I see their worth, whether I’m chosen or not.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

Could you do fic for Peter 'Bono' Bonnington with wife reader? (No age gap) He sees her talking to another guy and he gets really jealous, but instead of him being all angry. He becomes more insecure and sad and she assures and shows him how much she loves him. Just a little angst and fluff ending. Thanks!! :))

of course!

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter 'bono' bonnington x wife!fem!reader

Bono smiled politely at the other engineers as he slipped off his headset and closed his laptop, already plotting how he might steal an extra five minutes with his lunch… and more importantly, with his wife. He gave a few nods, exchanging quiet jokes as he weaved through the controlled chaos of the paddock toward hospitality. It was a small ritual now, meeting her in their usual booth, tucked away from the bustle. She’d ducked out ten minutes before the end of the session, like always, to claim it. So when he stepped into the hospitality suite and found the booth empty, his brow furrowed. He scanned the table, thinking maybe she’d marked it with a bag or a scarf, run to the restroom. But no, nothing.

He slid into the booth anyway, setting his phone down as he scanned the room casually.

That’s when he saw her.

And him.

The new mechanic was sitting across from her, a little too close, too comfortable, all youthful charm and wide-eyed awe. Y/N was leaning in, engaged, smiling, more than she had when Bono had tried to explain ERS deployment strategies last week, anyway.

Something twisted in his chest.

Some ridiculous, unspoken part of him wanted to march over there and stake a claim, drape an arm around her shoulders, maybe kiss her cheek, just enough to remind the kid exactly where she belonged. But Y/N wasn’t a trophy to display, and he wasn't the kind of man who treated her like one. Still…

Instead, he chose a table nearby. Close enough to hear if he leaned slightly, far enough not to draw attention. He told himself it wasn’t jealousy, it was just curiosity. But the tension in his jaw said otherwise.

From his seat, he could see she'd ordered her favourite lunch: miso-glazed chicken breast with steamed jasmine rice and roasted baby carrots. She’d also had a caprese salad, the plate still dotted with remnants of tomatoes, mozzarella, and a swirl of balsamic.

The mechanic? Tuna tartare with avocado, sesame seeds and soy sauce. Same main course as hers, maybe just following her lead. He wasn’t even eating, really. Just watching her with the kind of fascination that made Bono’s stomach knot.

He looked down at the glass of water in front of him and picked it up with trembling fingers, sipping just to have something to do. His wedding ring glinted in the light as he twisted it absently.

He checked his email. Again. And again. Almost begging for someone, anyone, to give him a reason to leave the room. Or for her to look at him. Anything.

Then he heard it: her laugh. Loud, full, unguarded.

She was laughing at something the kid said.

He slumped further in his chair, unable to stop himself from watching. She looked so happy. Happier than she’d been during their hurried dinners after long race days. Happier than she’d looked in weeks.

The doubts crept in slowly. Maybe he wasn’t exciting anymore. Maybe she wanted someone younger, funnier. Someone who wasn’t always buried in spreadsheets and strategy calls.

He was so deep in his own head that he barely noticed her walking over until she was standing right in front of him.

“Bono,” she said, exasperated. “For crying out loud, your lunch was literally sitting next to me.”

He blinked, speechless.

She gestured back to the booth. “I saw they were about to run out of the chicken breast, so I grabbed it for you. And your tartare, obviously.”

He stared at her, the weight in his chest not lifting just yet.

“And him?” he asked, his voice soft.

She rolled her eyes. “Babe, seriously? He asked me about the salad bar and then we started talking about travel. That’s all.”

He still didn’t look convinced.

She crouched beside his chair, resting her chin on his knee, voice softening. “Bono, hey… look at me.”

He did, finally. She smiled.

“He’s not my type in any universe. I like my nerdy, sexy, brilliant husband, who occasionally wears questionable socks but could probably rewire a power unit in his sleep.”

He laughed, a broken, grateful sound.

“You really think I’d trade all this,” she added, giving his knee a playful squeeze, “for some bubble-butted baby mechanic?”

She reached for his hand, kissed the wedding band. “This ring? This means forever. I’m yours. You’re mine. No rookie is changing that.”

His eyes misted. “I’m sorry. I just… I saw you laughing and…”

“And I laugh with you more than anyone else,” she whispered. “You just don’t notice because it feels normal. Comfortable. But it’s love, Bono. You. Me. No pit stops.”

Later that day, when Lewis crossed the finish line in first place, his final race for Mercedes, Bono’s voice cracked over the radio. Years of pressure, pride, and emotion poured out.

He joined Toto and Lewis on the podium, blinking through tears as silver and black confetti rained down. But even through the chaos, his eyes found her.

Y/N stood just beneath the stage, a small figure in a sea of celebration. She wasn’t jumping, wasn’t screaming. Just clapping, looking up at him, her face lit with pride, love, and something so steady it made his knees weak.

And when he finally stepped down from the podium, if he ran straight into her arms, kissing her like the world had stopped turning for a moment, no one said a word.

Because every person watching knew:

That was Bono’s forever.

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[spoonfulofmilo]

Knowing I have opinions that sometimes make me enemy territory to my mutuals 🤝 knowing my mutuals have opinions that occasionally make them enemy territory

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 17's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The next arrival stepped out of the car with a quiet kind of confidence, the kind that didn’t need grand gestures or theatrics. The late afternoon sun caught the soft waves of his dark brown hair, tousled just enough to suggest he hadn’t tried too hard, though every strand seemed to fall into place with effortless charm.

His features were sharp, yet softened at the edges by youth and warmth, high cheekbones that caught the light, a strong jawline that added gravity to his otherwise relaxed appearance. There was a sun-kissed flush to his skin, like he’d just returned from sailing off the Côte d’Azur. His smile was gentle but bright, the kind that lit up his whole face, crinkling at the corners of his hazel eyes in a way that felt instantly familiar. Like he’d already seen you smile, and liked it.

He wore a dark green button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled casually to his elbows, paired with well-fitted beige trousers. A brown leather belt pulled it all together with a touch of polish, while dark brown shoes gave him a grounded, understated elegance. It was effortless, clean, and quietly sophisticated, much like him.

He walked toward Y/N with a slight bow of the head, the grin never leaving his face.

“Bonjour! Je m’appelle Arthur.”

The French lilt in his accent was subtle but unmistakable, velvety, the kind of sound that made you lean in just to hear more.

Y/N smiled. “Arthur, huh? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone make beige trousers look that good.”

He laughed, slightly bashful. “Merci. I try.”

“Tell me about yourself,” Y/N said, their curiosity piqued.

Arthur slipped his hands into his pockets, shrugging one shoulder lightly. “I’m 24. I’m from Monaco. I work as a model,” he added with a dry little grin.

“So… what actually brings you here? Like, to the mansion?” Y/N asked, eyes narrowing playfully.

He met their gaze for a beat longer before answering. “I’ve learned that connection doesn’t always happen when or where you expect it to. I’m here to be open. And honest. And hopefully… to find something real.”

It was a simple answer, but the way he said it made it feel like the most sincere thing in the world.

Arthur’s hand shifted slightly, revealing something he’d been holding behind his back, an envelope.

“I actually brought something for you,” he said, holding it out.

Y/N took it with curiosity. “A letter?”

Arthur laughed quietly. “Not quite. They’re tickets. My agent just confirmed I’ll be walking at New York Fashion Week this fall. I have a couple of extras.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “You’re giving me fashion week tickets?”

Arthur gave a small shrug, his smile turning a bit shy. “It’s just… if we don’t end up together, maybe you can still go, bring whoever you do choose. I wanted to show you that even if things don’t go my way, I still want to support you.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the kindness. “Wow. That’s... actually really thoughtful.”

“I’d love it if you did choose me,” Arthur added, more quietly now. “But I’d like to think that no matter what happens, we could be friends.”

There was a beat of silence before Y/N nodded slowly. “You’re full of surprises, Arthur.”

“Hopefully the good kind,” he replied, a glint of hope in his eyes.

“So,” Y/N asked, smile returning, “first date ideas, go.”

Arthur brightened. “There’s a spa not far from here. Quiet, peaceful. I thought maybe… we could start there? Or, if you’d prefer, I packed a picnic. It’s nothing fancy, just fresh bread, olives, a little cheese. Something simple.”

Y/N tilted their head, clearly impressed. “Spa or picnic. That’s such a Euro answer. I kind of love it.”

Arthur chuckled. “What can I say? I like things that give you space to talk. To just… be.”

Y/N leaned forward a bit. “Alright then. One more. If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

Arthur didn’t hesitate. “Milan,” he said. “It’s like Monaco, glamorous, full of life, but with a bit more edge. The energy, the fashion scene, the pace… I could see myself living there. It's a city that doesn’t ask you to slow down, it dares you to keep up.”

Y/N smiled at that, tucking the tickets into their jacket. “Something tells me you’ve never had a problem keeping up.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow with a playful smirk. “Not when I know what I want.”

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“Arthur is... smooth in a very non-obvious way. Like, he walks in and you think, okay, here’s this polished, very put-together Monaco guy. But then he opens his mouth and you realize he’s thoughtful and grounded, and genuinely kind. That’s rare. The whole New York Fashion Week thing? That was unexpected. And generous. But the part that really stuck with me was that he offered it even if things don’t work out with us. That’s... mature. And honestly kind of refreshing. I wasn’t expecting to feel that connection this quickly. And yeah, it wasn’t flashy or dramatic, but it felt real. Which, in this setting? That’s kind of the biggest surprise of all.”

(cut to Arthur’s interview)

“I was nervous, honestly. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because… I didn’t want to come on too strong. I’m not the loudest guy in the room, I don’t compete with noise. But I believe in intention, and I hope Y/N felt that. I meant what I said about staying friends, even if this doesn’t work out for me. But... yeah. I also meant it when I said I’d really like to be the one Y/N chooses. There’s something about them, it felt natural, like we were already halfway into the next conversation before the first one ended. And hey, if all else fails, at least I’ll see them at Fashion Week, right?”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 16's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The next limo glided to a stop, polished to a mirror shine. Y/N stood waiting, a practiced smile on their face, until the door opened and someone stepped out who made them blink twice.

The man was tall and confident, moving with a kind of practiced ease that suggested both comfort in the spotlight and total control away from it. His face was initially hidden behind a sleek pair of sunglasses, but even without seeing his eyes, Y/N noted the sharp, sculpted lines of his jaw, the assured tilt of his head, and the subtle smirk that tugged at his lips. Whoever this was, he wasn’t here to blend in.

He wore a mustard-colored jacket that looked expensive, the fabric soft like suede, the cut modern but relaxed. Underneath it, a light cream shirt sat slightly unbuttoned at the collar, just enough to give a glimpse of golden skin and the confidence of someone who didn’t overthink things. His dark brown trousers were perfectly tailored, held in place with a simple belt. Polished black shoes grounded the whole ensemble, stylish, but not loud.

He paused for a moment before removing his sunglasses. And when he did, wow.

His blue eyes were striking, sharp and crystalline, with a glint that made Y/N feel like he was both being studied and silently teased. The look wasn’t arrogant, but purposeful. Like he already knew how to win a room and just hadn’t decided yet if he wanted to.

His blond hair was sun-touched and tousled just enough to seem effortlessly styled, a few strands falling across his forehead in just the right way. His features were classically handsome, high cheekbones, an angular jawline, the faintest smile softening what might otherwise have been intimidating symmetry.

“Hallo,” he said smoothly, his voice warm, articulate, and rich with a German accent. “I’m Nico. From Germany.”

He gave Y/N a slight bow of the head, a respectful gesture that felt almost princely. Then he added, “I’m a philanthropist.”

Y/N tilted their head, caught slightly off guard. “A what now?”

Nico’s smile widened, a touch amused. “A philanthropist,” he explained. “It’s just a fancy way of saying I support causes that matter to me. Education, sustainability, mental health, whatever helps create long-term change. Sometimes that means funding schools, sometimes it’s a hospital wing or an arts initiative. I like to put my resources where they count.”

There was something undeniably sincere in the way he said it, not boastful, just matter-of-fact.

Y/N blinked. “Wow. Okay, that’s... a big answer. So, uh, what brings you here? To this madness?” He motioned loosely to the mansion behind them.

Nico’s expression softened just a little. “Honestly? I’m here because I believe in love. I’ve seen a lot of the world, met a lot of people. But connection? Real, intentional connection?” He met Y/N’s gaze directly. “That’s rare. I’m here to take a chance on finding something real, with you.”

Y/N blinked again, their eyebrows rising slightly. This guy didn’t mess around.

“And if we were to go on a first date,” Y/N asked, regaining some footing, “what would it look like?”

Nico gave a thoughtful hum. “Actually... I’ve had to turn down a few gala events to be here. But if you’d ever be up for it, I’d love to take you to one. Beautiful venues, great music, conversation over champagne. And,” he added with a slight grin, “you’d be the best-looking person in the room.”

Y/N laughed softly, a touch flustered. “That sounds... way fancier than my usual plans, but I’m intrigued.”

“I also brought something for you,” Nico said, almost as an afterthought. He reached into the interior of his jacket and pulled out a sleek envelope.

“What’s this?” Y/N asked as he took it.

“Tickets to an industry event,” Nico replied. “I know F1 drivers are always thinking about sponsors and partnerships, and this one’s crawling with them. I won’t be attending myself, so no awkward run-ins if, you know, we break up dramatically on a balcony or something.”

Y/N laughed again, caught somewhere between flattered and surprised. “That’s actually... incredibly thoughtful. Thank you.”

Nico dipped his head again, a quiet acknowledgment.

Y/N tilted their head. “Okay, last one, if you could travel anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

Nico didn’t even hesitate. “Amsterdam,” he said. “It’s open, vibrant, progressive. Germany’s making strides in LGBTQ+ rights, sure, but Amsterdam? They’ve been setting the standard for years. I’d love to just walk the canals, stop at little cafés, maybe take a bike ride through the city. It’s a place where people live freely. That energy, it’s contagious.”

There was something undeniably cool about him, but also genuine. Intentional. Y/N was still holding the envelope in their hand, a little stunned by how real that conversation had felt.

“Well, Nico,” Y/N said, steadying their voice, “that was unexpected... in the best way.”

Nico smiled, smooth but not smug. “Good. I like leaving an impression.”

And with that, he gave one last knowing glance before stepping aside, letting the next moment unfold.

(cut to y/n’s interview)

“Nico... okay, wow. I mean, first of all, that man is stupidly attractive. Like, ‘someone-made-him-in-a-lab’ levels of attractive. But it’s more than that. He walks out of the limo, looking like a Bond villain in mustard suede, and then starts talking about global impact and emotional depth?? What?? He gave me tickets. For networking. For me. He’s not even going! Who does that? And then casually drops Amsterdam as his dream destination like it’s no big deal? I was not ready for Nico. But I’m very interested in seeing what else he’s hiding under that perfect hair.”

(cut to Nico’s interview)

“Well, that went... surprisingly well. I don’t usually do things like this, dating on TV, walking out of limos to impress someone I’ve never met, but with Y/N? There was a spark. A real one. Not forced, not scripted. Just easy. I know I come across a bit polished. Structured. But underneath all that? I really care. About people, about impact, about finding someone who sees past the surface. And I think Y/N might actually do that. He laughed at my ‘dramatic balcony breakup’ joke, so... I’m counting that as a win.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[spoonfulofmilo]

[spoonfulofmilo]

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 15's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The car that pulled up gleamed under the evening light, sleek, sophisticated, clearly expensive, but the man who stepped out of it somehow managed to outshine even that. There was a calm about him, the kind that made you stop and watch for just a little longer. His blond hair, naturally wavy, had been slicked back with a slight middle part that gave him an old-Hollywood edge, modernized by the ease with which he wore it.

Y/N’s eyes took in the rest, his striking blue eyes, sharp yet gentle, and a face that looked almost too perfect to be real. Model features softened by boyish warmth. His expression was quiet, measured, but not stiff, just reserved, like someone who had learned early to keep his cards close.

He held a pair of sunglasses in one hand, his fingers adorned with a few silver rings, nothing flashy, just personal. Y/N noticed. He’d never admit it, but something about rings on a guy? Yeah, it did things.

He wore a crisp, white button-up shirt tucked neatly into dark trousers. A brown leather belt matched his polished shoes, effortlessly tying the look together. There was nothing performative about the way he dressed, it was refined, understated. Thoughtful.

“Guten Tag,” he said, offering a small smile that lit up his whole face. “I’m Mick.”

His voice was soft, with the unmistakable lilt of his German accent, smooth, elegant, but relaxed. Not too formal. Just... genuine.

Y/N smiled, stepping forward. “So, Mick, tell me something interesting about yourself.”

He paused a moment, considering. “I’m from Germany, 24,” he said, then let a subtle grin form. “And surfing’s kind of my thing.”

Y/N raised a brow. “A surfer from Germany, huh? That’s not something you hear every day.”

Mick’s grin deepened just a little, as if he’d heard that before. “We don’t have the waves, but we find ways,” he replied, lightly. “I’ve spent a lot of time near water. Lakes, rivers. The ocean just... pulls me in.”

“So what actually brings you here, to the mansion?”

His expression turned more serious, not heavy, just open. “I’m ready to invest the time and effort into building something real,” he said. “Not just romance for the cameras. I’m looking for connection. For someone I can trust. And maybe someone I can share more than just a season with.”

Before Y/N could respond, Mick gently shifted the mood again.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, almost like a quiet afterthought, but there was a flicker of excitement in his voice. “I’ve got something for you.”

Y/N blinked. “You didn’t have to bring me anything,” he said with a curious smile. “But… what did you get me?”

Mick gave a little shrug, slipping on his sunglasses with casual ease before moving back toward the car. “It’s not exactly a gift,” he said over his shoulder. “More of a... piece of me.”

He opened the boot, and pulled out a surfboard.

But not just any surfboard.

The base was painted in a deep ocean blue that faded seamlessly into green, echoing the color of waves just before they break. The top was clean white, with a minimalist design of breaking waves painted in soft, flowing strokes. It was elegant, artistic, handcrafted with a kind of precision that revealed time and intention.

At the center, just below the nose, the name Y/N was written in subtle, tasteful lettering.

Y/N stared, stunned into silence.

“You…” he started, but the words got caught somewhere between awe and disbelief.

Mick stepped closer, surfboard in hand. “I made it myself,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “Took some time, but I wanted to give you something that wasn’t just a gesture. This is part of who I am. Surfing’s been with me through a lot, training, pressure, loss. It clears my head. Keeps me balanced. I thought maybe… you'd want a piece of that. Whether you surf or not.”

Y/N was still staring at the board, hands moving over the curves, the colors, the name. It wasn’t just beautiful, it was intentional. A part of Mick's soul in fiberglass and paint.

Mick tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting. “And maybe,” he added, “if you're up for it, I’d love to take it out with you sometime. I could teach you the basics… or we could just sit on the beach and watch the water. Whatever feels right.”

Y/N laughed, caught off guard by the sincerity. “Actually… I surf. I love it. Haven’t in a while, but yeah, I’d be up for that. 100%.”

Mick’s eyes lit up, quietly, but unmistakably. “That’s good to hear,” he said with a nod. “Because I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”

Y/N smirked. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

A pause settled between them, comfortable, full of unspoken understanding.

Y/N tilted their head. “Alright, let’s go a bit deeper. If you could travel anywhere in the world right now, anywhere at all, where would you go?”

Mick didn’t hesitate. “Hawaii,” he said. “Germany’s all about order and control, it's where I’m from, and I love it. But Hawaii? That’s freedom. The ocean, the rhythm of the place, the way people live there... it’s slower. Lighter. Surfing there is on another level. I’d love to experience that with someone who gets it.”

Y/N nodded slowly, eyes lingering on the surfboard once more. “Well... if we ever go, I call dibs on the front of the board.”

Mick gave a quiet chuckle, his blue eyes gleaming behind the lenses. “Deal.”

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“That was... unexpected. I mean, I was ready for the typical gift, a little chocolate, maybe a cute note, something easy, but a surfboard? Honestly, I didn’t know what to say at first. I was just... shocked. I’ve never had someone give me something so personal. It wasn’t just a ‘here, take this’ kind of moment. Mick put time and effort into it. He made it himself, and you can feel that. And the fact that it’s not just about the surfboard... It’s about what it means to him. The ocean, the waves, the freedom. I get it. And I think I get him too, a little bit. He’s got this... this quiet confidence, you know? He doesn’t need to show off or talk about himself to get attention. He just is, and it’s really easy to be drawn to that. And when he mentioned Hawaii? It felt like he was letting me into his world, just a little bit. I can see why it’s so special to him. It’s freeing. And it’s something I want to experience with him, maybe even more than just surfing. I don’t know... there’s something about him that just feels right. I’m definitely curious to see where this goes. He’s someone I could picture myself spending time with... getting to know. This whole thing? It might actually be something real.”

(cut to Mick’s interview)

“Y/N... he’s different. I mean, I can tell he’s real. There’s something about them that just... feels easy, you know? It’s not forced. When I handed them the surfboard, I wanted them to understand that it wasn’t just a gift. It’s... it’s me. Surfing, for me, is more than just a sport. It’s been a way to clear my mind, to find balance. To get away from the noise. I guess I wanted to share that... and maybe show them who I really am. Without the cameras. Without all the expectations. And when he said he surfed too? I don’t know, it was like this unspoken understanding, you know? I was relieved. I didn’t want them to feel like I was pushing something onto them, but now? Now, it feels like we’ve got something in common. We’ve got something to share. Maybe even more than just surfing. I can tell Y/N’s special. He’s not just here for the experience, he’s here for something real, too. And that’s... exactly what I’m looking for. Someone who’s not afraid to dive into something meaningful. Maybe... this could be the start of something.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

Can you write an OS of Peter "bono" Bonnington? Something like him being romantic to his wife or preparing a surprise party for his wife, pleaseeee

im so sorry this is so short! but i mean, its out?

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

peter 'bono' bonnington x wife!reader

As Y/N walked into the room, eyes covered by Lewis, she sensed more people in the room, but she remained confused.

“Lewis, what are we doing?”

“Shhh, alright, I’m gonna take my hands away from your eyes in 3…2…1…”

Y/N had to open her eyes as she adjusted to the light in the room. And then the noise hit her.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!”

Y/N blinked and laughed as she saw the sight of the Mercedes crew all crowded around her husband who was holding a chocolate cake, that had clearly been in this room for a while as it was melting, and the words ‘happy birthday y/n’ had slid down to look slightly creepy. But it was the thought that counted.

“Oh my god, I was not expecting this…” she laughed as the team epically butchered a rendition of happy birthday.

“Hello Darling.” Bono walked towards his wife, putting the cake aside to pull her into a kiss “happy birthday.”

“Thank you. But you really didn’t have to do all of this, I…”

“Did you think I’d forgotten?”

“Well, I wanted to hope that you hadn’t, and I didn’t think that you were that kind of person, but when you give me no other information to go off of, yeah I kinda thought you had.”

“I would never, okay? You trust me? I have everything in the calendar. Not that I need it, but if I did, it’s all there. As a backup plan.”

“Only you would have anniversaries and birthdays in your calendar as a backup plan.”

“Alright Bono, stop hogging the birthday girl.” Susie barged in and took Y/N by the arm and started dragging her away to greet everyone else. 

Bono managed to kiss Y/N once on the lips before she was dragged away and he was helped by the PR Girls and hospitality staff to start cutting the cake.

The cake was too small for it to be properly divided up for the entire team, so they had brought cupcakes and a few other snacks as well. Trying to not cut his hand as he watched Y/N greet everyone around the room, taking their congratulations, accepting a few presents from some of the more senior staff.

Someone noticed him staring and nudged him. He turned to look at one of the younger mechanics, looking expectantly at him.

“What?”

“Man, how long have you been married to her?”

“Uhhh, 2 years on October 3rd, and we’d dated for 5 years before that.”

“God, I hope when I’m your age that I have a relationship like that.”

“Are you calling me old?”

“Yeah, but y’know. The way you look at her. A lot of men would lose interest in their wife after a certain period of time. Granted I do not know what you looked like when you first met her, but I’d imagine you’d look almost the same. You look at her like she hung the moon and the stars.”

“I… know what you’re talking about. And i think there’s been a few times when she’s been worried that I would. But I would never. I would marry her again if I could.”

“Yeah. that’s why I want to have a relationship like you.”

“You gotta find the right girl, not putting effort into a relationship with the wrong person.”

taglist: @leosxrealm, @pear-1206, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3

[spoonfulofmilo]

· BOYFRIEND ·

✮          your hands are so soft, please, never take them off.

⭒ Alex Albon × Trans FTM Reader

⋆ oneshot WC: 1567 ⋮⋮⋮ journalist reader ⋮⋮⋮ fluff ⋮⋮⋮ insta-love.

⋆ summary ┈ The world of sports journalism is not easy being trans, but Alex is willing to accompany you in everything.

⋆ face claim ┈ nobody.

⋆ warnings ┈ transphobia mention - transphobic countries. Slight mention of Williams driver replacements.

⋆ requested? ┈ Yes! ◀ (thanks 🩰 for the request! <3)

« K »            Posting this & running to the classroom to take an exam. Hope it's cute enough, or at least a little cute.

· Hope yall enjoy :]

You knew that being trans in the world of sports journalism wasn't easy. Much less for you, who aspired to cover Formula 1 seasons, as so many people you had seen do since you were a child.

You dreamed of being the one to give those often iconic interviews, although the interviewer's work wasn't always truly recognized.

It was your dream, and despite knowing the path would be complicated and perhaps even fraught with extra obstacles, you decided to try. You decided to make your dream a reality.

You studied, you prepared, and you put in as much effort as you could to climb the ladder to make a name for yourself. You worked hard, tirelessly, but you knew it had all been worth it when the opportunity of a lifetime presented itself: a fellow journalist from the channel was retiring. His job? Covering Formula 1 race weekends from the tracks.

You didn't hesitate for a second to accept the job. You couldn't believe what you were experiencing, not even when you were already in Imola, leaving the hotel parking lot with your team, heading to the track.

But your dreams weren't the only ones coming true that weekend.

Williams was the center of attention, more specifically Franco Colapinto, who would be making his official debut for a full weekend and lasting until the end of the year.

That same weekend, even though he was overwhelmed by everything happening around him, you met Alex.

He was as sweet in person as he looked in videos or even sweeter. Attentive, he mentioned that he remembered talking to the previous journalist about his retirement and that he was happy you had gotten the job.

You were nervous, it was inevitable, but his words gave you encouragement and some calm.

"I'm sure you'll do a great job. I hope to see you often."

"Likewise for you! Good luck in qualifying tomorrow."

You congratulated him on scoring points over the weekend, and then it was on to Azerbaijan, a race you covered from the studio.

While waiting between the Italian Grand Prix and the Singapore Grand Prix, you noticed certain names popping up in your social media notifications. alex_albon and georgerussell63. You laughed as you watched them, preparing for the following weekend.

“You didn't come to Azerbaijan,” you heard as you walked through the paddock, looking for the rest of your team.

“Alex!” You turned around, surprised that he had approached you to talk. He shook your hand in greeting, as you replied, “We decided with the channel that I would cover some races from the studio,” you explained briefly.

Alex didn't elaborate on the topic, and you didn't mention anything else before he started talking to you about that race.

You congratulated him on his good result and the points he had managed to score. It had been a spectacular weekend for Williams.

You noticed how you had slowed down, maybe to take longer to reach the hospitality area, but it was inevitable, and your ways had to separate.

"See you later," in an act that Alex could only describe to George as 'a rush of adrenaline', he winked at you before running to take refuge in the Williams hospitality area.

Feeling the temperature slowly rise on your face, you continued on your way, hoping you weren't too flushed so you could go on camera without question.

From that weekend on, you were the first person Alex looked for from the moment he arrived at the track to the post-race interviews.

The brief conversations while walking around the paddock grew longer and longer, and you even started chatting via Instagram until you ended up exchanging phone numbers. Then, as the months went by, the outings outside the track began, like dinners together after races or walks around the city.

Your coworkers had started joking about your relationship, and although you pretended to be annoyed, you were somewhat excited.

Alex was very sweet, always trying to make you feel comfortable and safe. You enjoyed your time with him, and he seemed comfortable, too. The fact that you were trans was never a secret between you, and he never made you feel less or unaccepted, quite the opposite.

You didn't usually share much of your life and experiences with other people, much less with other cis men, but Alex never made you feel afraid to speak up. He inspired a trust in you that few people ever instilled before. And the more time you spent together, the greater the trust grew.

You felt comfortable, and it was evident that Alex did too.

You realized this when you found yourself meeting Alex's pets and his sister.

Sitting on the floor of the house, with a cat sleeping in your lap, watching the siblings in front of you, telling you stories from their childhood.

There was a feeling of familiarity. You couldn't describe it, but it just felt right.

Alex felt something similar when he saw you at his house, with his family, his pets, and his friends. Now, with his sister, or when you and George and Carmen went out to dinner. The inside jokes that now included you; the constant messages on the weekends, whether you were at the track or not; sometimes even calls, especially on those non-racing weekends that found you away for days.

Everyone around Alex was starting to wonder when the two of you would make your relationship official; others even believed you were dating, especially the people on social media, who had seen for almost two years how you interacted both in person and in comments on posts.

And the long-awaited day finally arrived.

During the winter break, after the 2025 season, he surprised you with a message: "Would you be surprised to see me at your door if I asked for your address first?"

No, he asking for your address didn't make it any less shocking to see him arrive by taxi at your house. Especially not after he told you he had a reservation at a fancy restaurant for the weekend.

“Don't feel pressured to accept. I understand if you refuse. I mean, I appeared out of nowhere. Maybe it was a bad idea…”

“Alex,” you interrupted. “Dinner? I'd love to.” That signature smile of his returned to his face, following him to the dinner two days later.

A dream restaurant, one that also seemed quite expensive, but as soon as you entered, Alex said that the night was on him. 'As a thank you for accepting the invitation without forewarning.' You wanted to argue, but it was in vain. –Then, when George found out, he mocked that maybe Alex liked paying for everyone's dinners.–

The night passed between chatting and laughing, even agreeing to order dessert so you could spend a little more time there, stretching the night as much as possible. When it was impossible to continue there, you went for a ride around the city.

With Alex by your side, even the most ordinary views felt special now. And they became even more special when, after driving slowly through the streets in a rented car, Alex parked where you indicated.

“Now are you supposed to ask me out, or do I have to?”

“I was waiting to see if you wanted to,” he confessed between laughs, which quickly spread to you. “Should I ask or you?”

“Both?” Still giggling, you both nodded.

Counting with his fingers, Alex counted down until when it reached zero, the two of you asked in unison, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” before you both nodded in unison.

You were both calming down from your laughter when you saw the other.

“Are you sure you want to date me?” you asked.

“I’ve never been so sure about something,” he nodded, as if it were a given. “There’s nothing I want more.”

“But— are you sure?”

“What's all this about? Why wouldn't I be sure?”

“I... I don't know. Maybe…” ‘Maybe being trans is a problem.’ Alex, who seemed to be able to read your mind, quickly found your hand and entwine your fingers.

“Honestly, was there ever a time when you felt like I didn't accept something about you?” You quickly shook your head. He had never done or said anything even close. You'd never felt afraid or uncomfortable around him. You were afraid, but you didn't even have any reason to feel that way, at least not on his part. “I love and accept you as you are, and if necessary, I'm willing to remind you of that every day. My boyfriend doesn't deserve to feel insecure about anything.” You let out a small laugh.

“I think that's enough... for now.” You wouldn't deny that you liked those kinds of affirmations, although with the mix of emotions, you knew that now your entire face was completely red.

“Fine. But whenever you need me to remind you what a wonderful man you are, or talk about how lucky I feel to have such an amazing boyfriend like you, you can just ask.” You laughed again, wanting to cover your face, but since Alex was still holding your hand, you could only look away.

When you looked at him again, you felt his gaze like a question, to which you nodded, silently giving him permission to come closer, sealing their first kiss. The first of many.

⋮⋮⋮                 481MCLARG | 13 . 06 . 2025

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 14's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

The next guy’s sharp jawline and high cheekbones caught the light in a way that made it almost impossible not to notice him. His skin was smooth, with a subtle, sun-kissed glow that hinted at time spent outdoors. But it was his expression that caught Y/N's attention, a calm, collected ease, as though he was fully in control of the moment, yet effortlessly approachable. He had that rare kind of confidence that didn’t need to be flaunted. Instead, it was just there, present and undeniable.

He ran a hand through his dark brown hair, the strands falling back into place effortlessly, just messy enough to seem deliberate. When his hazel eyes met Y/N’s, there was a quiet curiosity there, a glint, as though he was reading between the lines of the conversation, understanding more than what was said out loud.

He was wearing a navy blue, ribbed polo shirt with a zipper at the collar that remained half undone, paired with crisp white trousers. The whole look was polished but understated, like he didn’t have to try too hard to look good, it just came naturally.

"Hi, Y/N," he greeted, his accent soft but distinct, the vowels a little rounder, the consonants clear. There was a certain ease in his voice, but also an underlying warmth. He offered a small smile, the kind that made you feel like you were being trusted with something genuine, and extended a cup of coffee toward Y/N. "I thought you might appreciate something a little more... personal," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Coffee always helps me think clearly. I thought we could share a cup and maybe talk for a bit."

Y/N blinked in surprise at the thoughtful gesture, a little taken aback by the simplicity and sincerity of it. "Coffee? That’s... really thoughtful," he said, their curiosity piqued by the gesture. "I’ll take it."

Oscar nodded, the slight smile still on his lips as he handed over the warm cup. His hands were steady, sure, like he had a quiet confidence about himself, never needing to rush. He met Y/N’s gaze, his eyes soft but purposeful. "I’ve been told that sharing a cup of coffee can be the start of some interesting conversations," he said, his tone measured, with the gentle cadence of someone who only spoke when there was something worth saying. "So, I thought it might be a good way to introduce myself."

Y/N smiled, feeling comforted by the simplicity of it all. The warmth of the coffee mirrored the warmth of his energy, and it felt easy to settle into the moment. "I’ve never been one to turn down a good cup of coffee," he said, taking a small sip and letting the warmth spread through them. "So, what’s your story?"

Oscar took a moment, settling into a more comfortable posture. He glanced down for a moment, thoughtful, before looking back up. "I’m 22, from Australia," he began, his voice steady and genuine. "I’m an author. Or at least, I try to be. I’ve written a few things, mostly short stories, some poetry. But I think I’m still figuring out my voice. It’s an ongoing process, you know?"

Y/N nodded, intrigued by the openness. "That’s really cool," he said. "What brought you here to the mansion?"

Oscar’s grin deepened slightly, and he leaned forward a fraction, as though sharing something a little more personal. "I’m hoping this experience leads me to someone who complements me. Someone who brings out the best in me. I guess I’m looking for a connection that feels real, something with substance. It’s not just about the spark, it’s about finding someone who makes the world feel a little smaller and a lot more meaningful."

There was a sincerity in his words, a quiet truth that Y/N couldn’t help but respect. Oscar wasn’t rushing, wasn’t trying to impress, he was just telling it how it was.

Y/N leaned in, drawn in by his openness. "So, if we went on a first date, what would that look like?"

Oscar’s grin shifted, a little more playful now, but still grounded. "Well, there are so many independent bookshops in this city. We could spend the day wandering around, finding some hidden gems, discovering new stories. Maybe we could even write something together, just for fun, a little creative exercise. I think the best ideas often come when you let them happen naturally, without any pressure."

Y/N’s eyes lit up. "That sounds like the perfect date," he said, already picturing themselves in a cozy bookstore, pages turning and ideas flowing. "I’m definitely sold."

Oscar’s gaze softened, and his smile warmed again. "Good. I like that. It’s about enjoying the moment, without overthinking things. It’s about connecting over something meaningful and letting it unfold."

Y/N leaned back, thinking for a moment. "Alright, last question, if you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Oscar didn’t hesitate, the answer coming easily. "Edinburgh, Scotland. It’s the city of literature. There’s so much inspiration there, whether it’s the architecture or the atmosphere or just the feeling you get when you walk through the streets. I’d love to go during the International Book Festival. And the book-filled cafes? I can’t think of anything better. We could write something together while sipping coffee. Sounds like a dream."

Y/N grinned, feeling a warmth settle in their chest. "That sounds incredible. I think I could definitely get on board with that."

Oscar nodded, the slightest gleam in his hazel eyes. "I think it would be perfect. A place that feels as timeless as the stories we’d write. Just us, the city, and whatever words we put on paper."

Y/N chuckled softly, feeling the pull of something real in the simplicity of his words. "Yeah, I think you might be right."

Oscar stood up, brushing off his trousers with a casual ease. He gave Y/N one last, almost shy smile. "Well, it was good to meet you, Y/N. I hope we get to explore more of these stories... together."

Y/N watched him leave, feeling a quiet excitement building within them. There was something about Oscar that felt grounded, thoughtful, and entirely unpretentious. It was easy to imagine a future with him, one filled with books, coffee, and a connection that didn’t need to be forced. Just natural. Real. And that felt like exactly what he was looking for.

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

"Okay, I did not expect Oscar to show up with coffee and that kind of calm energy. Most people come in like they’re auditioning for something, big smiles, louder than they need to be. But he was just... himself. And it worked. It wasn’t just the coffee. It was how he talked about writing, about finding someone who brings out the best in him. There’s a sincerity in him that feels rare, like he says exactly what he means, no filters. And the whole 'bookshop first date' thing? That kind of attention to detail? That’s not just romantic, that’s thoughtful. Honestly, if this is how he is on day one, I’m really curious to see what else is beneath the surface."

(cut to Oscar’s interview)

"That went... well, I think. I’m not usually someone who goes all out with big gestures, so offering a coffee felt right. It’s simple, but it says a lot, you know? Like, ‘Hey, I want to share something with you. Let’s start here.’ Y/N’s got this really open energy. He didn’t just take the coffee, he leaned into the conversation. Asked questions that actually made me think. And that? That’s rare. I felt like I could just... be myself. I wasn’t trying to impress them, and I don’t think he was trying to impress me either. It just felt... honest. And honestly, that kind of connection? That’s what I’m here for."

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[spoonfulofmilo]

Reblog to give prev the power to write their fanfiction

[spoonfulofmilo]

Seeing the rookies this year makes me so sad for mick, like in another time, without anger issue steiner, he could have thrived.

I miss hil with este and lance so much.

[spoonfulofmilo]

Reblog if you support asexuals and aren’t a COWARD

RB if your blog is a safe, accepting space for asexuals!

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 13's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

His sharp cheekbones and defined jawline were softened by the gentle creases around his ocean-green eyes, lines not carved by stress, but by years of laughter and a life lived with sincerity. There was a calmness in his gaze, like a man who had carried the weight of the world and chose to meet it not with resistance, but with understanding.

His hair was tousled and slightly sun-kissed, falling in soft waves that hinted at a man who spent more time under the sky than in front of a mirror. He didn’t fuss with perfection, authenticity suited him better. His beard was neatly kept but rugged enough to give him an edge, framing his face naturally, like it had always belonged.

He wore a deep forest-green shirt with the top buttons undone, the sleeves rolled just above his elbows, paired with simple black trousers and well-worn boots. Effortlessly put together, not because he tried to impress, but because he knew who he was, and that was enough.

“Hey,” he said, voice low, warm, with a hint of something old-world in his tone. “I’m Seb. But Sebastian’s fine too, if you prefer.”

Y/N smiled. “You work with plants, right?”

Seb nodded, his fingers absently tapping a quiet rhythm on the wooden table between them, like he was tracing the shape of a leaf. “Yeah. I’m a florist by trade, but I also work in conservation. Activism, too, when I can. I believe if you care about the world, you have to put that care into action.”

“That’s... really cool,” Y/N said, already picturing him in a greenhouse, hands in the soil, tending to a world others overlooked.

When asked what brought him here, Seb tilted his head thoughtfully. “I think... the idea of finding someone who shares my values. Not just the same hobbies, but a deeper way of seeing the world. That’s something rare. And when you find it… if you find it… it’s worth holding onto.”

Y/N nodded slowly, drawn in by the quiet conviction in his voice.

Seb smiled, a little more playful now. “And besides, life’s too short not to take a few chances.”

Y/N leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Alright, then. If we went on a first date, what would it look like?”

He chuckled softly. “Honestly? I thought maybe we could make flower bouquets for each other. There’s a whole language in flowers, you know. Each one has a meaning. We could build our own little message, just for each other.”

Y/N grinned. “That’s adorable.”

“But,” Seb continued, rising from his seat, “for today, I actually brought something else.” He led Y/N through a small path that opened into a clearing behind the house. There, a wooden crate sat in the grass, filled with tools, nails, and neatly cut planks of cedar.

“What are we building?” Y/N asked, brow raised in curiosity.

“A beehive,” Seb replied simply. His voice was calm, almost reverent. “Bees are small, but vital. Without them, we lose almost everything. I thought… we could build one together. Something that gives back.”

There was no dramatic flourish, no attempt to impress, just a quiet invitation to do something that mattered. And in that simplicity, it became all the more meaningful.

Y/N nodded. “I’d love to help.”

They knelt side by side in the grass. Sebastian moved with the precision of someone who respected the process as much as the outcome. As they worked, he explained how the hive would serve the colony, each piece fitting into a greater whole, each role essential.

“It’s a good reminder,” he said quietly, handing Y/N a wooden frame. “That everything is connected. The bees, the flowers, the food we eat. It’s easy to forget how fragile it all is.”

Y/N listened, fully engaged. There was something grounding about Seb’s presence, he didn’t speak to impress, he spoke because it mattered to him.

“Life’s like this too,” Seb continued. “You build it slowly. You need patience. It won’t always look like much at first, but if you care for it… if you do it right… it becomes something beautiful. Something that lasts.”

When they finished, they stepped back, admiring the simple, elegant structure. Seb brushed some sawdust from his shirt and smiled softly.

“It’s ready.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the hive catch the late afternoon light.

Y/N turned to him. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

Seb didn’t hesitate. “Costa Rica. I’ve never been, but I admire their leadership in conservation. The biodiversity there is incredible, the flowers, the wildlife, the way they protect their ecosystems. I think I could make you a bouquet from native orchids, heliconias, maybe some bromeliads.”

He looked at Y/N and smiled again, eyes twinkling. “And I’d love to take you hiking through the national parks. No phones, no rush. Just us and the trees. I think you’d like that.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest. “I think you might be right.”

Seb nodded, satisfied. Not boastful, just quietly content, like a man who believed in the value of doing something good, even when no one was watching.

And as the sun filtered through the leaves, lighting the beehive in gold, Y/N found himself thinking that maybe, just maybe, something truly meaningful had started here.

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“I wasn’t expecting to build a beehive today. But that’s the thing about Seb, he does everything with this quiet intention. He’s not trying to charm you, and yet... he does. He’s not flashy. He doesn’t need to be. Everything he says feels like it has weight, not heavy, just… thoughtful. Watching him explain the hive, you could tell he really meant it. The way he talked about connection, about patience... it wasn’t just about bees. It was about life, about relationships, about building something that lasts. I don’t think he even realizes how disarming that is. It kind of made me stop and think, like, what if it’s not about grand gestures? What if it’s about who’s willing to kneel next to you in the dirt and build something with you? Yeah. I felt something real out there.”

(cut to Seb’s interview)

“I don’t think a first meeting should be about selling yourself. It should be about showing someone what matters to you… and seeing if it resonates. I brought the beehive idea because I thought, it’s simple, but it means something. You take care in putting it together, you give something back to the world. That’s the kind of relationship I want to build. Something that feels... mutual. Thoughtful. Y/N was open. Present. He didn’t treat it like some quirky activity, he listened. Asked questions. He got it. That meant a lot. And I know it’s early, but... when you can work quietly beside someone and feel comfortable in the silence, that says more than hours of small talk ever could.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms